Eyes Open
by Peyton LeVay
Summary: So now I know what happens after we die. Now, I just hope it doesn't happen again. —OC self-insert.
1. Prologue

**Title: Eyes Open**

**Summary: So now I know what happens after we die. Now, I just hope it doesn't happen again. (Semi) Self-Insert / SI-Oc**

**Warning(s): AU; SI-Oc; Dark**

**Beta: None.**

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**_Disclaimer!_**** If I owned Naruto, why would I be writing ****_fan_****fiction?**

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**Prologue: Pinchbeck**

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_Where_ we ended up after death hadn't really mattered to me. I mean, I assumed that it was basically a never-ceasing state of nothingness, though I never gave it much beyond a passing thought; my priorities had been clear, even back then: family always came first; everything else—including myself—a close second.

Which is funny—because maybe if I had cared more about myself, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

What situation, you ask?

Well, stick around and I'll tell you.

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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In the life I had prior to this one, I had lived under the assumption that after death, there was nothing: no heaven, no hell, no Limbo, and _certainly_ no reincarnation cycle—particularly not into _fictional universes_ where people can_ literally spit fire_ _at you_.

As it turns out, I was wrong on all accounts, as what an individual saw after death was contingent on what the individual believed. Since I had put no thought into such (then-pointless) matters, it was decided for me.

I was..._reincarnated_.

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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Death was...simply put, one of the strangest things I have ever experienced.

One moment, it's a distant sort of pain, and then a feeling of _disconnection and cold_ and then—

—_weightlessness._

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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When I first wound up in the thick, imposing darkness, I was scared and confused beyond all possible belief, and ended up taking it out on the rubbery walls around me with hard kicks and punches until muffled voices and distant sort of pressure managed to calm me down—though that took a while.

I mean, I died...hadn't I?

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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The next thing I knew, the darkness I had grown used to was wrenched away from me, and there was pain, terror, helplessness, an inexplicable feeling of constriction, and air that was so cold that it _burned_.

What was even more terrifying was that I was clueless about everything that was going on around me—my usual twenty-twenty vision was shot to hell, and I had absolutely no depth perception, and my light sensitivity was kicked up to the maximum. My hearing was just as bad, if not worse. In addition, my limbs wouldn't respond to my commands beyond futile kicks and punches, and for some reason I haven't been able to make myself speak coherently.

I could tell that someone was constantly speaking to me (possibly in another language, though that particular investigation will have to be when I can actually _hear_ what they're saying) and that it was almost always the same person.

Strangely enough, I could also tell that this strange person was always lifting and carrying me—which didn't make a whole lot of sense; I had always been on the short side, but I was never _that _short.

But it didn't matter much to me...until I actually _saw_ who was carrying me.

Because those purple rectangle clan markings on the guy's face? They looked identical to the ones on Nohara Rin from that show I used to watch with my sister. Uh, _Naruto_ or something like that. I think I watched it with her up until the Kakashi Gaiden before I lost interest and started my new part-time job at the day-care so I could start saving up to go to culinary school.

But hey, there's no way that's anything but a coincidence, right?

...right?

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**Edit: 10/14/14 - barely noticeable, but I corrected a tense error or two. **

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**Edit: 8/2/14 - not much has changed, except for a little after the first line break.**

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**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. Um, I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, as I've got a lot of things on my plate right now, but I'll do my best.**

**Read and Review, please. Also, if you catch any mistakes — any at all, no matter how insignificant they may seem, please tell me.**

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**Question: If you had to choose, which fandom would you be reborn into?**


	2. I: Agerasia

**Title: Eyes Open**

**Summary: So now I know what happens after we die. Now, I just hope it doesn't happen again. (Semi) Self-Insert / SI-Oc**

**Warning(s): AU; SI-Oc; Dark**

**Beta: None.**

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**_Disclaimer!_ I own a computer—and my OCs...that's about it. **

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**Chapter I: Agerasia**

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There is absolutely _nothing to do _when you're a baby—I couldn't cook because I couldn't reach the stove, or any of the pots or pans; I couldn't read because everything was in Japanese and my comprehension of the language was rudimentary _at best_—_though improving!_—and I couldn't write for the same reason above. Well, that and the fact that my motor coordination was shot to hell, and I couldn't reach the paper and pens anyway.

The only thing that I could do at the time was sleep. And eat. And poop. And _repeat_.

You see? _Bo-ring! _

All in all, it's simultaneously mind-numbingly _boring_ and _frustrating as all hell_—not to mention _humiliating_. Seriously, you have _no control_ over _anything_ in your life when you're a baby, and you're wholly dependent on your parent(s)/guardians to take care of you—which, as in independent woman whose used to doing everything for herself, is just...awful.

And if I hadn't discovered chakra when I did—not that I knew that was what it was at the time—I probably would've _died_ from lack of stimuli.

...okay, _slight_ exaggeration—I _probably _wouldn't have died. Still, it was nice to _finally_ be given_ something to do _besides playing with that stupid rubber knife Tou-san—as he'd told me to call him—gave me.

(That was another thing that should have tipped me off—because really, who the hell besides a shinobi would give their _six-month old_ a _knife_ [or _kunai_, as he'd called it] to play with, rubber or not?)

It was...surprisingly easy to access and manipulate. And when I saw that—so far—there were no negative drawbacks to using the energy, I grew bolder with my experiments. Along the way, I was likely enhancing my muscle growth—not that one could tell, as I was still barely mobile—and increasing the size of my reserves and my control over them. But I didn't really notice—at that point, all I wanted was some way to relieve myself of the sheer _boredom_ that was infancy.

Problem was...I'm not the only who was interested in what would become of my experiments—or on how far I would go. More on that later, though.

Anyway, I was still in deep denial about exactly where I was—and really, who could blame me? Who in their right mind would believe, without irrefutable proof, that they had been _reborn into a work of fiction?_

However, the evidence was rapidly piling up towards _that_ _theory_; I had seen Tou-san's flack jacket, his hitai-ate, _and_ his clan markings—which, by the way, were _tattooed on_. But even after that I was able to dismiss it as a fluke—he could easily just be a particularly devout Japanese cosplayer. Who named his daughter after his favorite anime character—actually, Rin was a pretty common Japanese name, and I had been reborn into a Japanese family. There was nothing strange about that. There was no reason to jump to conclusions.

Except...they were on _me_ too. How devout a cosplayer would one have to be to tattoo their kid that was barely a year old? And in that vein, how had he managed it without Child Services getting their knickers into a triple-knot over it?

Then he took me out to the park one day—where there were a bunch of other people wearing hitai-ate. Seriously, what was this? Naruto Cosplayers Unite?—and I saw the Hokage Mountain, which had three heads. Not four, _three_. There was no way to mistake it for Mount Rushmore. And there was no way to deny it anymore.

This was the Naruto-verse. I am a Nohara—Nohara _Rin_, unless my father's been talking to my imaginary twin sister this whole time. I am going to be an medic-nin, and I am going to be on a genin team with _the_ Hatake Kakashi, and Uchiha Obito—who is going to "die" on a mission to blow up the Kannabi Bridge and have his Sharingan implanted into Kakashi's left eye—with Namikaze Minato—the future Yondaime—as my Jōnin sensei. And—according to the fanfiction my sister wrote and made me read—I am going to eventually be made into the jinchūriki of the Sanbi...and be put under a compulsion seal by Madara to let it loose on Konoha...but not before I impale myself on Kakashi's Chidori, which consequently caused Obito—who, by the way, somehow _survives_ Kannabi Bridge—to go batshit insane.

...

_Aw, hell. _

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be reborn into the Naruto-verse?

Here's the run-down: depending on who you're reborn as, you're given a rubber knife—_kunai_ before you even start teething. When you're able to walk, your Tou-san starts teaching you basic taijutsu forms and working you to the bone. When you can read and write, you're given books about medicine, anatomy, the basics of chakra manipulation and control, and the shinobi rulebook and codes of conduct. When you're able to throw wooden shuriken and kunai with pin-point accuracy, you're given _actual shuriken and kunai_. It becomes a requirement to meditate each and every night before bed.

Every single game you play—cat's cradle, clapping games, kendama, etc.—every single hobby you enjoy—origami, calligraphy, sewing and embroidery, etc.—is designed to prepare you to become a shinobi—or a kunoichi, in my case.

I don't particularly want that—the life of a kunoichi, I mean. Sure, becoming a shinobi...kunoichi, or whatever, sounds pretty cool in theory—particularly the part about learning jutsu—and in all the fanfiction that my sister had me read in my spare time, whenever this particular kind of plot came up, the person in question is always jumping for joy at the prospect.

Me? Not so much.

I'm just doing this to _survive_.

I know what you're thinking—_survive? If you become a kunoichi, aren't you doomed to Death By Lightning Cutter? Or just death in general? Wouldn't it be better to lay low and play it safe?_

Yes, but consider this—even if I _don't_ become a kunoichi, it isn't a guarantee that I _won't_ be killed. Yes, the life of a shinobi is rough and dangerous, but civilians die a lot easier than their shinobi counterparts—and let's face it: being a civilian won't help me when the Kyūbi attacks and levels the village. Or when any other big baddie comes along. It won't stop Orochimaru or Danzo from nabbing me in the middle of the night. Becoming a kunoichi in this world is the only way to ensure that I'm _not_ totally helpless, and have access to things I'd never have as a civilian.

Besides...if worst comes to worse, I can just request immediate transference to the Medic Corps and _not_ become a field medic. Sure, it's the coward's way out, but I've never claimed to be particularly courageous.

And yes, I _have_ decided to become a medic. I mean, I had never been particularly interested in it in my previous life, but...here, it may be the only thing that gives me an option to avoid the field work. And besides, it was actually pretty interesting—making herbal remedies and poisons wasn't all that different from following a recipe when you're cooking. Memorizing the names of the different bones—270 at birth, 206 after fusion—and muscles and major arteries and the placement was stimulating. It helped to ward off boredom when Tou-san was finally off paternity leave and had to start going on missions again.

But when I turned four, and Tou-san had to go on a particularly long mission, everything changed.

_Everything_.

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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"Tou-san...?" I asked uncertainly, my hand gripping his a little tighter than I normally would, as we were going on a route that was completely unfamiliar.

"Yes, Rin-chan?"

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to my teammate's house. His wife—Erika—was just put on maternity leave, so she's going to watch you until we come back from our mission."

"Oh...when will you be back?"

"As soon as I can, little one."

And the discussion was closed, since he couldn't tell me about the mission anyway—it was classified. And that alone was enough to scare me a little with all the _what-if's_—you don't classify something that isn't dangerous. Or highly sensitive. Or any combination thereof.

I resolutely did _not_ think about it.

The rest of the walk there was spent in comfortable silence, and I balked when we did arrive. The house was two stories tall, and had a traditional Japanese feel to it—with tatami mats and rice-paper doors and _everything_. Granted, it probably paled in comparison to Uchiha or Hyūga Clan Compounds in terms of size, but there was a quiet dignity present that marveled me. It was..._beautiful_.

Of course, this was also the home of two elite shinobi—no doubt there are traps laid out all over the place.

I gripped Tou-san's hand a little tighter after that. Hopefully he'll dismiss it as the anxiety of being in a new place.

_And, in a way, it kinda_ _is_.

Tou-san knocked on the door in a pattern that is used amongst allies—granted, it probably wouldn't be all that hard for a spy to pick up on it, but it was the thought that counts—as well as a discreet flare of his chakra.

The door opened a few minutes later, and it was a massive struggle to keep my expression blank—and likely, I had only partially succeeded, as I did not yet have full control of my facial expressions.

That was Hatake Sakumo. As in, _the_ Hatake Sakumo—the White Fang of Konoha. The father of _the_ Hatake Kakashi—who was, I realized, the tyke that was just recently born—the person whom was blamed for the start of the Third Shinobi War—though that particular bit was pure speculation on my part, as I had no further information aside from the things I remember from watching the show and reading fanfiction—and committed suicide shortly afterward.

My father's teammate...is _him?_

_Shit._

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**A/N: As Rin's family is never expanded on in the anime or manga, I'm taking a couple of liberties and giving her one. She comes from a minor shinobi clan that specializes in medical jutsu. Her father is a field medic, and her mother had been a hospital medic. Her mother died in childbirth due to...well, I'm not going to disclose that yet. **

**Her father is named Nohara Keita, and he is the teammate and close friend of Hatake Sakumo—whether or not he abandons Sakumo after their future mission together gets FUBAR is up for debate. **

**Please put your thoughts in a review—and please, please, ****_please_**** tell me if you spot any grammar mistakes or inconsistencies. ****_And_**** where those mistakes ****_are_****. **

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**Answer: If I had a choice, I would be reborn into a shojo manga...maybe Ouran High School Host Club. Nothing with action in it, though. **

**Question: Recommended SI's?**


	3. II: Triage

**Title: Eyes Open**

**Summary: So now I know what happens after we die. Now, I just hope it doesn't happen again. (Semi) Self-Insert / SI-Oc**

**Warning(s): AU; SI-Oc; Dark**

**Beta: None.**

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**_Disclaimer!_ Me No Own; You No Sue.**

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**Chapter II: Triage**

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My head was whirling even as Tou-san's face split into a wide grin, and he launched into an animated discussion with hand gestures and—wait, that _might_ be some of the Konoha standard sign language, not that I could make heads or tails of it; you didn't learn that until you were an Academy student, and then there were different branches you _only_ learn after you advance to certain ranks to keep people from learning about things that are above their pay grade.

...while it made sense, it didn't make it any less annoying. Yes, I _am_ a nosy bitch—it comes with being a kunoichi/shinobi. And trying to keep my father, myself, my father's teammate, _and_ his wife and son alive—which was easier said than done, since I stopped reading the manga _years_ before its completion, and can only recall so many of the spoilers my sister and the fanfiction she wrote provided.

Like the fact that I'm canonically supposed to die sometime before—_maybe_ a little while after—I hit puberty, and become the catalyst for _at least_ half of the series' events.

_Good God. Of all the manga/anime/_whatever_ I _could have_ been reincarnated into, _why_ did it have to be the one where I'm canonically supposed to die—_again?

"—and this is my daughter, Rin!" he exclaimed, clapping a hand on my shoulder and _jolting_ me out of my thought process. "Rin-chan, this is Hatake Sakumo—the teammate I was telling you about. You can call him Sakumo-oji-san."

My expression right then was probably a cross between _deer in the headlights_ and _holy shit, are they talking to _me?

Sakumo's lips twisted upward, and he seemed to be fighting off the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

_Wow, _I thought, giving him a mutinous glare—which, strangely enough, seemed to only amuse him _more_—_that is just _rude.

...wait. He's an _elite shinobi_—said to be on par with the _Sannin_. Doesn't that mean he should be in full control of his facial expressions—brow control and all that? Am I only seeing this because he _wants_ me to see it, or is he subconsciously—or with full awareness; because either works, really—letting his guard down because he trusts Tou-san?

"—course I do, Keita," Aw, hell. I _really_ have to break my habit of spacing out like that—if I was on a recon mission, and I missed vital data because I was too busy inner-monologuing to pay attention to cues from the quarry, it could potentially endanger the rest of my team...or the village in general. Either way, the potential consequences were _really bad_. "I _was_ there when Minami went into labor, you know. That's not exactly something you forget."

Tou-san scoffed. "Yeah, yeah—it's not a day _I'm_ going to forget anytime soon either—" Sakumo-oji-san's brows furrow for a minute, before smoothing out. _Am I missing something?_ "—I'd _never_ forget the moment I saw _Konoha's White Fang_ come banging through the hospital doors looking like a bunch of S-Class missing-nin were right on his tail just because my wife was having Braxton Hicks contractions. The look on your face is something I'm going to remember for_ the rest of my life_. I mean, aren't _I_ the one who's supposed to panic over these sorts of things?"

Sakumo-oji-san's brow twitched.

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ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

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After taking off our shoes, we followed Sakumo-oji-san as he led us through the house. Tou-san's and his steps were unnervingly silent, while mine made a soft _pitter-pat_—I have _so_ got to learn how to do that, dammit—before we stepped through the doorway of the nursery...and I'm pretty sure I was gaping.

Kakashi's mother was tall, fair-skinned, and had long auburn hair that was pulled back into an elegant bun. She was wearing a dark green sleeveless qipao blouse with brown trim and brown cotton pants with bandage wrap near the bottom—likely to keep them from flapping around. When she turned, she was carrying a small bundle in her arms, and she wore a gentle smile on her face...or what we could see of it, anyway.

_So _that's_ why Kakashi donned a mask._

"Hello, Keita...it's been a while."

Was it my imagination, or was there something of an...almost accusing bite to her tone? And was there something _sharper_ about that smile than there had been before?

Tou-san gave a sheepish laugh, and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah...uh, how have you been anyway, Erika?"

"I've been doing great, actually." she glanced down at the small bundle of blankets that held Kakashi—and man he is so goshdarn cute as a baby!—and her gaze softened. "Kakashi-chan is an adorable, inquisitive child—and, he doesn't cry all that much at night. He is going to be a fine shinobi one day."

_Erika-oba-san, you have _no idea_._

And then it shifted to me, and her eyes widened a fraction, before a smile tugged at her masked lips. "And this is Rin-chan, right?"

Tou-san beamed. "Yup!" Then he turned to me, still beaming, and said, "Rin-chan, you might not remember, but Erika-oba-san here used to watch you when you were a baby. She and Sakumo have been busy for a while with a mission, so we haven't been able to see them for a few years—"

Erika-oba-san scoffed. "More like _you_ haven't been able to see us for a year since we came back, until Kakashi-chan was born you ja—er," she spared a nervous glance at me, and then at Kakashi before continuing with: "...jerk. Yeah, that's _totally_ what I was going to say."

Yeah, _right_—and Kaa-san rose from the dead to make my breakfast this morning. It was wakame miso soup and nattō rice—oh! And some nice tamagoyaki!

"—but I expect you to be on your best behavior, understand? Don't give Erika-oba-san a hard time, and help her with Kakashi-chan as much as possible, got it?"

I nodded, and said—or rather, _tried_ to say, "Yes, Tou-san," but he verbally bull-dozed right over me.

"Also, _don't_ slack off on your training just because I'm not here to oversee it—and if Erika-oba-san says you've been good, I'll start teaching you how to throw senbon when I come back, okay?"

I perked up, excited at the prospect of learning how to throw another projectile weapon. "Yes, Tou-san!"

_This is going to be great! I just know it!_

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**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm going to be busy for the rest of the month, so I won't be posting anything and this is better than nothing.  
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**So special thanks to Flor, I Am The Land, Naruto4Evar, and Guest for their reviews—and everyone else for their faves and/or follows. Seriously, I appreciate it, and I hope you stick around for future chapters! **

**Also—if you have a moment to spare—please, please, _please _put your thoughts in a review! And tell me if there are any inconsistencies/grammatical errors/etc—and _where_/_what_ they are. **

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**Answer: Some of the SI Fics that I recommend are:**

Dreaming of Sunshine — by: Silver Queen

Vapors (and the sequel—though I haven't had the chance to read it yet—Clarity) — by: ElectraSev5n

Iryo-nin Kasa (医療忍 傘) — by: Vaengir

Déjà vu no Jutsu — by: Vixen Tail

Laterality — by Kettobase

New Lease on Life — by: GetWithIt

Forethought — by: beemera

Sleeping Star — by: Alumneia

What Doesn't Kill You — by: Zbluez

Catch Your Breath — by: Lang Noi

Maybe a Dream — by: kittyloaf

The Green Beastling — by: sweetlilsunshine

Unsolicited Providence — by: scipunx

Clockwork and a teacup — by: Artsome

Top of the Tree — by: CupcakeLoopy

Depth — by: Barryium

A Play With Words — by: XER9AF

Runner — by: CompYES

Under the Shade of the Plum Tree — by: shapes and colors

Miss Haruno — by: Madame Mayhem

Pulling the Strings — by: Hubris Plus

Little Acorn — Colors of Iris

Anything by GaleSynch, thelonelylovechild, Vindicated Irony, sonyat, Darkpetal16, Supernatural Crossover Girl, etc.**********  
**

**********For more of this check in my favorites list, profile, or the C2:************_Peyton LeVay's Favorites_************. **

**********Question: Recommended Time-travel/AU Fics?**


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